“Don’t you dare,” I seethe. “Don’t you dare make me feel bad because I needed someone to listen to me. Don’t you dare, Josten Bell.”
“I wouldn’t,” he says.
“And as for my
skill”
—I spit the word out like it’s rancid—“I wish it were gone. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to put up with any of you anymore.”
“So you’d give up your sister to not have responsibility?” he accuses.
“No, I’m still going to find her. But maybe if I can’t warp or weave, then you guys will be forced to do something useful for once.”
“I am doing something useful. I’ve been out there searching for the Whorl so we can get the girls back before it’s too late. Before time takes them away from us!” Jost grabs my arm, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh.
“And what good has it done us?” I ask. “We’re no closer to saving the girls than we were weeks ago. We’ve lost nearly two years in Arras, Jost. Two years.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he growls. “You think that every second that passes doesn’t remind me that Sebrina is slipping away?”
“I’ve been training,” I say. “I can alter, unwind. Don’t tell me that I’ve done nothing.”
“You have done something,” Jost says. “You’ve become a weapon. Did you fight yesterday? Fulfill your purpose?”
I hate that word—
weapon
. But I hold my ground and don’t miss a beat. Jost won’t win this argument. I won’t let him. “I’m no one’s weapon. No one is using me. I’m not being dragged around looking for a mythic answer to our problems.”
Jost gives me a rueful smile. “Enjoy your pedestal, Ad.”
“You’re the one who put me up there.”
Jost turns to go, but it’s at exactly that moment that Erik appears, dressed only in his jeans. He must have heard me chasing after Jost, which means he’s been listening to us fight.
“The problem isn’t the pedestal, Jost,” Erik says. “It’s that when we fall off, you won’t help us back up. We can’t all live according to your rigid moral standards.”
“So you slept with Adelice,” Jost counters, “to prove me right? To show you’re as good as the dirt you landed in?”
Erik’s eyes meet mine and I see pain in them. “You have it wrong. Nothing happened, but from now on what does happen is between Adelice and me,” Erik says, edging closer to his brother, “because I’m in love with her.”
Well, that’s out in the open.
“You’re in love with yourself. You’ve never cared more about someone else’s happiness than your own. You wanted her so you took her. Like you wanted to leave Saxun, so you did. You never consider anyone else,” Jost accuses.
I know what Erik has gone through. I know he’s struggled with what might have been if he’d stayed in Saxun.
I
know it. But Jost doesn’t. Because Erik and Jost barely talk to each other unless they’re arguing, and I’m sick of it.
“Don’t stop now,” Erik says. “Tell me how I should have stopped what happened in Saxun. Tell me how I could have stuck around and wasted my life fishing. Tell me that I should have stood in the shadows while you ignored the only good thing you had going instead of falling in love with Adelice.”
“You don’t know the first thing about love.”
“Maybe I don’t,” Erik admits, “but I know a thing or two about fighting. When are you going to step up and fight for something, little brother? I never held it against you that you didn’t share my ambitions. When you came to the Coventry, I didn’t judge you for watching and thinking. And when you went after Adelice, I didn’t blame you. But there comes a time when you have to figure out what to fight for and
actually
do it.”
I might as well not even be here, because their gazes are locked on each other.
“And what do
you
fight for?” Jost asks.
“Adelice,” Erik says without hesitation. “You had your chance. I’m not waiting around any longer. I’ve held back because I felt bad. But this time you lost, and it had nothing to do with me.”
“Anyone care what I think?” I ask in a quiet voice.
“No!” they respond in unison without turning to me.
“Fine.” I walk away, leaving both boys in the dim glow of halogen, but before I can flee to my quarters, two Sunrunners step into my path.
“We’re going to need you to return to your room, miss.” A row of stitches runs up the side of one’s face. He must have seen some action last night.
“I’m on my way,” I tell him, maneuvering around the pair toward the door.
“You too,” the man calls to Jost and Erik, interrupting the brothers’ heated argument.
“In a minute,” Jost responds, not bothering to look at the Sunrunner.
“This estate is on lockdown. Our orders are to shoot anyone who resists us,” the Sunrunner warns. “If you have a room, I suggest you go to it.”
I wait long enough to see both Erik and Jost slinking back toward their rooms before I disappear into the safety of mine.
THIRTY-FIVE
THE NEXT MORNING MY DOOR IS LOCKED from the outside. I try the windows, but none of them open. I can’t even exit to the adjacent sitting room. When my breakfast arrives under heavy guard, I know that I’m Kincaid’s prisoner.
“When will we be allowed out?” I ask the guard, who has brought me a plate of cold boiled eggs and dry toast.
“They’re sweeping the area. There’s been a breach of our perimeter,” he says, already moving to leave.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I mutter.
The man’s eyebrow cocks, but he doesn’t say anything else. I manage to stomach the cold egg and toast, if only because I’ve had little to no food for the past two days. It’s definitely not up to Kincaid’s standard cuisine, but then again, there’s probably no one to cook after the attack.
I try my door after he’s left, but it’s still locked. I could attempt to alter it, but without having any clue what is waiting on the other side, I decide against it. My alteration skills are dicey at best, and I’m as likely to destroy half of the wall as I am to get the door to open. I’ll give it a day before I start to rip the place apart.
Jax arrives with my afternoon meal, and I sigh with relief when I see his friendly face. He brings my plate into the room, closing the door until only a sliver of light is left, so it doesn’t lock behind him.
“Jax, thank Arras,” I say. “What’s going on?”
“Kincaid is furious. He thinks the breach came from the inside,” Jax tells me, setting my plate down on my vanity.
“And he’s keeping us in lockdown until he figures out who it was,” I guess.
“No,” Jax says, his face sagging. “He’s already decided who it was.”
I bite my hand so I won’t scream. If Jax is walking around with the other Sunrunners, and I’m locked in my room, that must mean I’m the prime suspect. Or Jost and Erik are.
“Dante’s gone,” Jax continues. “And so is your mother.”
“I know,” I murmur.
“Kincaid thinks you had something to do with it.”
“I didn’t.” I tried to stop him, but I don’t tell Jax this. The less he knows, the less likely he is to get in trouble himself.
“I can’t stick around,” Jax tells me, “but I’m working on something.”
“And I’m supposed to wait?” I demand, balling my fingers up so tightly that my fingernails pinch into the soft skin of my palms.
“You don’t have a choice. I’ll get you out of this, but I need you to listen to me. Don’t eat your dinner.”
“I couldn’t eat if I wanted—”
“Don’t even touch it.” Jax stops me. “Throw it out. Hide it. When we come for you, pretend you are asleep.”
They’re coming for me. I can’t quell the rising panic at this thought. Tonight they’re coming for me. “Who is coming? Why?”
“I can’t stay, but you can trust me,” Jax says, pulling open the cracked door and disappearing. It clicks behind him.
I don’t have any other choice.
* * *
I stay in bed, the contents of my dinner stashed in a drawer in the vanity. I’m too afraid to move for fear that they’ll come without warning and catch me awake, ruining Jax’s plan. When the lock to my door finally clicks open and feet shuffle across my floor, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to stay still.
“She’s out.” I hear Jax’s voice, which puts me at ease.
“Be sure, I hear she’s dangerous,” another man says.
“I said she’s out. Don’t worry, I’ve got her.” Hands slide under me and lift me up. I’m cradled against Jax’s chest.
“Keep quiet,” he whispers.
The sensation of being carried off is surreal. I can’t open my eyes to see what path he’s taken or where I’m going, but my mind involuntarily guesses each step of the way. The light filtering through my eyelids grows brighter and the air cooler.
“Put her down there.”
“Okay.” Jax squeezes my hand when he lays me back on a metal slab, and I struggle to keep my breathing slow and rhythmic. Where am I? What’s going on?
“You can go,” the other man commands.
“One thing first,” Jax says. A moment later something crashes into the exam table and falls to the floor. My eyes fly open—I’m unable to keep them shut. Jax rushes over and helps me off the table. I have to step over a body when I do it.
“Is he dead?” I ask, staring down at the man.
“I knocked him out,” Jax says. He squats to riffle through the lab coat the man is wearing, pulling a thin plastic card from the man’s pocket.
“What is that?”
“Security clearance,” Jax says. “We don’t have much time.”
I follow him out of the exam room and into one of the corridors of the estate’s lower level. It looks like the hallway that leads to the cells, but I’ve never been here before. Nondescript steel doors line the corridor.
“These are the alteration labs,” Jax explains. We turn left and immediately meet with a set of security doors. Jax holds the security card to the scanner and the doors glide open to allow us entrance.
“Where are we going?” I ask, checking over my shoulder.
Jax doesn’t answer. Instead he pushes open a white door. Privacy screens partially obstruct several hospital beds, and on the near wall, lit boxes display black-and-white images. I step closer to examine them.
“So this is where he makes his toys,” I say, remembering Kincaid’s strange play and the actors adjusted to perfection for our entertainment.
“Not only his toys,” Jax says. He flips a switch on the wall and a light buzzes on behind a bank of mirrors. Only then do I see the images hanging across them. The light casts shadows across the film and a variety of shapes appear before me.
I wander closer and peer at the sheets. “Is this…?” I let my voice trail into a question.
“A brain,” he confirms.
“And the others?”
“Chest. Hands.” He rattles through a list, pointing to each picture. Some of them are obvious, such as the spindly bones of a hand and foot, but others require concentration to see clearly.
“He uses these to perform the alterations?”
“Tailors use them,” he corrects me.
Tailors, like Dante or myself or Erik.
“X-rays give us a basic pattern to work from. They guide the measurement process,” Jax explains.
“What do you need measurements for?” I ask, my alarm building to a frantic pulse.
“Remember the actress who wanted her face back after the play?” he asks.
I nod.
“A Tailor uses measurements to change someone’s features. It’s not always necessary, but it speeds the work along,” Jax says.
“Why are you showing me this now?” I demand. Being in this room gives me the creeps, and it further reinforces the idea that the Guild is using Tailors in their efforts to map and alter. I had been close to going under the Tailor’s instruments in Arras. I don’t like being so close to them here.
“You didn’t look closely enough,” Jax prompts.
I stare closer but it’s still a mass of murky white and spindly bones. Jax’s long finger trails to the bottom of the X-ray I’m studying and I follow it. There’s a mass of meaningless numbers and codes. Measurements of some sort, I assume, but it’s what’s underneath the gibberish that stands out:
SUBJECT: LEWYS, ADELICE
“This is me?” I ask aloud. I’m not really speaking to him, only trying to wrap my head around what I’m seeing.
“You aren’t the only one,” he murmurs. “You deserve to know what Kincaid had in store for you.”
I scan the next image. Valery. Erik. And the next. Jost.
“How did they get these?” I ask loudly. Jax shushes me.
“They don’t have surveillance in here, do they?”
“Would you keep records of your misdeeds on tape?” he asks. “But it’s still not a good idea to yell.”
Good point.
“I don’t understand where they came from,” I repeat, trying to fit the pieces together. “I never agreed to be mapped.”
“Do you think Kincaid’s the kind to ask? This isn’t the first time Kincaid ordered us to drug you.”
“And you did it? Before now?” My fingers jab at him.
“Dante wanted to see what Kincaid was up to.” Jax spreads his hands apologetically and backs a few steps away from me.
Of course Dante would risk me to learn more about Kincaid. It doesn’t even hurt anymore to realize that, not after his attitude about abandoning my mother. But how had I missed it? The dreamless nights, the world fading from awareness to black to light again. I thought I’d stopped dreaming because I felt safe, but now I realize more sinister machinations were at work. Did someone carry me down here at night without me knowing it? But when I stop to think, I remember the strange dots and scratches on my arm that Erik noticed in the speakeasy, and the silvery scar we discovered at the swimming pool. My torn dressing gown the morning after Jost and I broke up. The strange bruise on my leg that Valery pointed out when she dressed me for the play. The clues have been there. Kincaid’s men weren’t even careful enough to prevent them, and still I hadn’t seen them until now. That didn’t answer the most important question though.